


Garden of the Sea

by Hinalilly



Category: Free!
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy, Fluff and Feels, M/M, Original Fairy Tale, Slice of Life, Slow Build, references everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1728854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinalilly/pseuds/Hinalilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin is a hard-working boy who has always dreamed of adventure. When an impulse decision lands him right into one, he learns that an act of kindness leads to another, that vows can be made and broken, and that, ultimately, love knows no bounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Butterfly in a Jar

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, here it is. My number one most self-indulgent, first multi-chaptered fic, and my NaNoWriMo 2013 project.
> 
> I won't lie to you: the chapters will be long, and I WILL take my time to update, but I WILL finish this and I hope you come to enjoy it as much as I do. I am also an idiot who hates spoilers with a passion, so _the tags will be updated along with the chapters_. You'll know what to expect if you're familiar with my writing. If not, sit back and enjoy the ride!

 

 

_The water is alive._

 

That was the very first lesson he had been taught in life. Having been born in a fishing village, it was not strange that his father had chosen those very words when he had first introduced him to the ocean, speaking with fondness and respect as he held both of his tiny arms in his hands, helping him walk along the coast. Despite his short age at the time, it was a memory that was etched firmly in his mind, for his father would enounce his teachings to him time and time again, ruffling his hair and spinning him up in his arms as praise and tales of the water fell from his lips. His voice, hoarse and aged from years of exposure to the salty sea wind, would enthusiastically explain how the lives of all men and women of Iwatobi were sustained by the ocean and by the creatures living in it, how its moods should be learned and navigated, how its gifts should never be taken for granted. He spoke with the passion of a man that, in spite of being faced with economic difficulties every now and then, had never lost his faith nor his love for the job he had taken upon his hands; a man who, on rare occasions, would speak with bittersweet longing of his desire to indulge on impossible dreams of exploring the vast depths of the sea, or swimming great distances with no other support but the strength of his own arms and legs. It was during those times that his mother smiled the brightest, her eyes following every enactment of her husband’s adventures at sea, her laughter ringing heartily when they became more and more exaggerated with each passing journey, and even more so when her son’s eyes widened at the size of the ferocious –and, unbeknownst to him, fictional– sea monsters his father had bested in his latest fishing trip. Having been raised in such close contact with the sea, it was not strange either, then, that little Rin had taken an instant liking to it, latching onto his parents’ legs to beg for a trip to the beach even before he knew how to string words into a sentence, or insisting on accompanying his father to the port as soon as he was able to walk on his own. It was not strange that most sailors came to know him by name even before he made friends of his own age, or that, when prompted to suggest a name for his newborn baby sister, he had immediately chosen one related to the water. It was not strange that the first thing Rin had said to her, among her loud cries and the muted hustle of the hospital workers, was a bright and cheerful “get big soon so we can swim in the ocean together!” and, by the time he was twelve, it was definitely not strange that Rin could maneuver himself through both the town and the port alike as if they were his own backyard, his effervescent energy earning him a smile and a wave from every single person that crossed his path.

It was in this manner that Rin coursed through life, happily bursting through schoolwork and side jobs with the force of a storm and without a single care in the world, summoning attention wherever he went; he was a natural social butterfly, and boys and girls of all ages flocked to him like moths to a flame. Slow seasons and poor fishing loots could never deter him, serving only to make him persevere even harder at supporting his family while his father was out at sea. Rin had made it his personal belief that he had a duty to look after both the household and his mother’s and sister’s well-being while his father was unavailable, and the world itself knew better than to stand in the way of a member of the Matsuoka lineage. His own mother had long since given up on trying to stop him, for nothing, not even a caring and worried –and equally determined– parent, could get in his way once a plan had settled in his head. Promises of freshly baked pastries of all kinds only managed to delay him for an hour at most, and the otherwise infallible excuse of “your sister is lonely” had stopped working ever since Rin had figured out he could just as well pamper Gou with presents, as long as he managed to make some spare cash. He would find a menial job fit for a child –Rin despised thinking about it that way, but did not correct anyone who said as much–, jump straight into it, grab his reward, and go back to looking for something else he could do. Truth be told, there were not many tasks people would force onto him to work on, not with the petit, slender build he sported, and he never got more than a few coins for his troubles. Nevertheless, a little was better than nothing, and Rin knew that as long as he worked hard, did not give up, and did not squander his earnings, his family would sooner or later be swimming in a pile of gold, and they would never have to worry about anything ever again.

…well, a pile of gold _was_ a bit of an exaggeration, but he was in no hurry to get there. He would achieve his goal eventually, as long as he stuck to the plan.

So it was that twelve-year-old Rin raised the curtain of the spring break of what was a particularly poor year for business bustling around the humble port town of Iwatobi, rushing through rows and rows of houses that were practically stuck together, ducking under haphazardly open windows and knocking on unlocked doors to ask for any small job he could perform –taking out heavy trash and sweeping lawns and walking pets and babysitting children who were nearly his own age– just for a few coins. While his overly chirpy personality might have otherwise deterred people from entrusting their possessions to him, Rin had made it a personal aim of his to appear as reliable and as good-mannered as possible, always taking utmost care to finish every task in time and beyond the expected results. Thanks to his continued efforts, even at his young age there was no longer a single person in all of Iwatobi who did not know his name, or who would doubt his trustworthiness. Of course, that did not mean things were always easy. There were times when the requests he received were particularly bothersome –one time he had been asked to help sort out nearly a dozen boxes’ worth of chaotically arranged family pictures; the _horror_ –, but Rin never complained or shunned a single one of them: if he was tired or bored, or if he ever found his company nagging to the point of unpleasantness, he never allowed it to show. He would always either act the responsible grown-up part or flash a toothy grin and smile it through, careful to behave according to the proper social standards and being as polite and as professional as he should. Not even to Gou would he voice his complaints; children have a tendency to be a little too honest, and he was well-aware of that. Instead, on particularly annoying days, he would treat himself to a snack on the way back home, always taking care to set aside half of it –and sometimes even more than that– for his beloved sister.

In his eagerly determined bright red eyes, whose intense gaze made him appear much older than he actually was, but that still shone with an unrivalled child-like innocence, there was none other but Gou who could hope to compete against his love for the ocean or his commitment to his work. Only Gou, with her puffy pink cheeks and her cute little hands and her beautiful wine-colored hair, so much like his very own, could draw his attention from both the water and his days of running through the town long enough for Rin to remember he was still allowed to play with dolls, toy swords and plastic farm animals like any other child. Hours would be spent in a make-believe world of tea and sweets, climbing trees, or collecting seashells in the sand. But the magic never lasted, or rather, Rin himself never allowed it to last; he had more important things to focus on than playing silly games. Growing up with awe-inspiring stories of the ocean and all the secrets it held had turned Rin into a child with ambition, and he knew his life was meant for something well beyond the norm. Bigger things. Grander things. He could not allow distractions to blur his focus.

Still, he adored his sister more than anyone would give him credit for, and it was thus that on a particularly fresh spring afternoon, Rin found himself musing about what candy flavor Gou would enjoy the most, weighing his options against the amount of money he had managed to scrape with his jobs. It had not been much, sadly, as Rin had been covering a lot of ground during the last few couple of days, and most of the heavier, spring-cleaning related jobs had already been finished by then. To make matters worse, not only was his father’s boat going to be out of town a little longer than expected, but also a lot of the trees around town were late to bloom, so there were not many lawns to sweep nor many water pipes waiting to be unclogged. Considering how much profit he had made since his break had started, Rin had been seriously looking forward to treating his sister to some fancy sweets, but now his head was muddled with grim thoughts and calculations, all of which cautiously reminded him not to overspend lest he regret it later.

It was with those thoughts in his head that Rin had decided to take a detour along the beach on his way back home, kicking his shoes off and hanging them over his shoulders to take a stroll along the shore. He walked right where the water would sweep over his feet with each coming and going of the tide, soothing his inner ramblings and putting his worries to rest for the duration of the trip, toes digging playfully into the moist sand with each slow and careful step. His pace was laid-back and relaxed, and yet Rin’s sharp gaze darted all over the sand as he walked, searching for anything and everything he might be able to sell off once he got back to town. On several occasions he had found some discarded glass bottles and wood planks which had found eager new owners –one of the perks of knowing everyone in town was that Rin knew exactly who to make business with–, and once he had found an old pocket watch, which a particular shopkeeper had exchanged for a decent sum of money. She had then rambled on and on about different historical figures and proverbs related to time that had made absolutely no sense to him whatsoever, but at least it had been amusing, and the lady now recognized Rin on the street as well, always asking him if he had come across any other antiques. Of course he never did find anything quite of the sort again, but he liked to entertain the woman by telling her he would definitely head to her shop first should he spot something of value. The memory brought a smile to his face, and soon Rin was busy daydreaming of shipwrecks and washed-up ancient treasures, pirates and fierce sea creatures, beautiful mermaids and curses and menacing storms at sea. So caught up in his thoughts he was that he almost failed to notice the small group of children playing rather loudly a bit farther ahead, laughing and cheering and waving thick wooden sticks in the air. There were four of them, seemingly a few years younger than him, and Rin mentally scoffed at the group, judging them for their carelessness. Small children should know better than to play near the ocean unsupervised. He altered his preferred route over the water to circle behind them, praying to the heavens that they would not notice him and ask him to join them. Choosing to push his own earlier musings aside, he decided that someone of his age had much better things to do than playing pretend on the beach, anyway. He had almost succeeded in avoiding the group when a loud, clanking noise towered over the laughter, catching his attention, and he could not help looking back towards them.

“Do it again, do it again!” One of the boys cheered, waving his own stick above his head. His back obscured the action from Rin’s eyes, but he could distinctly see one of the boys standing further to the side swinging his stick at something, the same hollow, clanking noise ringing in the air when he hit his mark. The other three were cackling madly at this, and the boy swung the stick again to more cheers from the rest of the group. The faces he could make out had rather nasty expressions on their faces, and Rin frowned, turning away with a sigh. Brats. They were obviously up to no good.

“Look at it, look at it! It’s going crazy!” The first kid laughed again, and Rin stopped right on his tracks. His frown deepened when his brain immediately began supplying him with several options as to what it could be that the kids were currently attacking, choosing to turn around and head closer towards them, trying to get a better view. He did not want to get involved in an argument and much less into a fight; even if he was a few years older, the brats were still equipped with painfully looking wood sticks, and Rin knew when to pick his battles. Besides, he could not afford the kids ganging up on him and spreading nasty rumors to their parents about him being a bully when jobs around town were so scarce, either, so he could not be too careful. His patience snapped, however, when one of the kids squealed “Shake it and see what it does!” The suggestion had Rin’s feet moving faster than his brain, and his mouth snapped open with a powerful yell.

“Hey! What are you doing?” His tone faked calmness but his volume said otherwise, and the group of kids almost jumped right out of their skins, breaking their perfectly bound circle in the process. With all of them turned towards him, Rin could clearly see the big glass jar that one of them had hurried to pick up and now held in his arms, smudged with wet sand and slightly scratched. His eyes, however, ignored the jar and the sticks and the kids in favor of what was inside of it. Trapped between the walls of dirty glass and under the heavy lid was a stunningly beautiful, purple-colored butterfly, a kind of which Rin had never seen in his entire life, and his eyes widened in both awe and horror as he watched the poor thing trying to fight its way out of its cage. The kids were all staring at Rin now with their ugly faces and despicably smug expressions, the shock of the scream having long since passed.

“What do you want?” The leader asked curtly, his lips drawn in a stupidly-looking pout. “We’re busy. Get lost!” The rest of the group nodded in agreement, one of them going as far as crossing his arms and puffing his chest defiantly. Rin would have laughed at the display if he had not been so absolutely furious at the moment.

“Let it go,” he said firmly, pointing to the jar and the butterfly trapped in it. “You’re hurting it.”

“What? No way!” The kid with the jar screamed, twisting his body to try and put it out of Rin’s reach. Oh, if only that boy knew, Rin could easily wrestle it out of his hands if he just put his mind to it; regular swimming in the ocean since he was little had made him much stronger than he looked. “We caught it! It’s ours!”

“Yeah!” The leader shouted back, and this time it seemed like he was trying to look menacing, but in Rin’s eyes it was just another pitiful attempt. “Go find your own!”

Anger seeped into Rin’s expression, his gaze once again setting on the poor bug, which kept on struggling with all its might to get free. He lifted his eyes to the boy with the jar again, and then to the leader, ignoring the rest. “I want that one,” he replied, pointing with his head for emphasis, hair flicking in the sea breeze.

“Tough luck. We’re not sharing,” the leader smirked with a sharp insolence, and the boy with his arms crossed nodded stupidly, the other two simply staring at him with equally pathetic frowns.

Rin’s fingers curled into fists. He was not going to get into a fight with those brats; none of them were worth his time. But he could not walk out on the poor animal, either. It looked positively desperate, and Rin doubted there was much room for breathing in that jar. Worse yet, he could not count on the stupid kids to eventually break it open _and_ avoid hurting the butterfly in the process, either. Thoughts racing in his head, he weighed his options in silence. There had to be a peaceful way out, and Rin was determined to find it, or else give up on his treasured family name. He was used to getting his way, and it would not be any different, even if he found himself stuck striking a deal with stubborn, bad-mannered children. It was then that, without warning or fanfare, the proverbial light bulb flicked on above his head.

“Fine,” he said, slipping his hand into his pocket, with the boys following his every move. Drawing it out slowly, his fingers spread to reveal a few coins lying in his outstretched palm. “Here. It’s yours, right? I’ll buy it.” Rin would have patted himself in the back for keeping his face as steady as he did upon seeing the look on the four boys’ faces watching him offering them his money. It was not much, to Rin at least, but he knew it was more than enough to have them walk away in satisfaction and without any fuss, and frankly that was all he wanted at the moment. If he was forced to stare them all in the face for another full minute, blood and snot were going to run in the sand. That was yet another thing he wanted to avoid.

The group huddled back into a circle, and immediately hushed voices begun discussing the trade, mostly agreeing with each other that they could get better entertainment from those coins than from beating a silly jar with sticks. In less than thirty seconds –thankfully for them–, the leader turned and walked over to Rin, followed closely by the kid with the jar, and swiped the coins from Rin’s hand with an ugly smile on his face. He then gestured for the other boy to drop the jar at Rin’s feet, and Rin in turn rushed to pick it up, wasting no time in trying to pry the lid open. The other two kids simply dropped their sticks and followed after the other half of the group, laughing as they ran back towards the town, the leader turning around to shout a final “Have fun with that, loser!” at a very distracted Rin. The insult helped spike his anger enough to give him the extra boost he needed to twist the lid open at last, falling on his back on the sand with the force of the action. Rin had not done more than blink once and already the butterfly had rushed to escape the death trap, fluttering freely along the beach, and then made a sharp turn to circle all over Rin in what seemed like evident gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” Rin snorted at it, a smile tugging at his lips as he sat up, watching the butterfly circle over his head a few more times, then fly off into the distance. Before it was out of sight, he shouted after it, his voice tinged with relief. “Try not to get picked on again!” He could have sworn that the butterfly turned, or rather back flipped in the air, to nod at him. He laughed with glee, picking up the discarded jar and putting the lid back on, a smile lingering on his face even as his mind registered the loss of a large part of his hard-earned money. He could eventually get more, he concluded, as he started on his way back to town with the jar stashed under his arm, but that poor butterfly might not have gotten a second chance if he had not stepped in when he had. That meant a lot more to Rin than adding to his savings, plans or no plans. In light of this new thought, he turned the remaining coins in his pocket with his free hand, thinking he might as well treat his sister to some sweets anyway. Saving up for the future was important, but being able to enjoy his earnings while he still could was just as sensible. He could cut himself some slack.

 

Rin took his time to arrive back into town, mostly distracted first with thoughts of tiny butterfly-winged fairy princesses trapped in cages, then of speedy white rabbits chased into bottomless tree holes, and then of mystical genies freed from their centennial slumbers in dusty lamps. His thoughts had then wondered to what he would wish for should he be faced with the three wishes dilemma. Of course, adventure was his first thought, but he figured that, if he had happened to run into a magic lamp, he would already be in the middle of one. If he had not, then, he would most likely be too worried to leave his mother and sister to fend off by themselves if he did choose to wish for one. He thought of riches next, but he already knew from experience that riches never lasted forever, and Rin could not even fathom what amount of money would be enough to last him and his family for a lifetime. Therefore, he thought about wishing for better fishing loots next, but for some reason the notion of asking something like that of a desert genie seemed thoroughly silly. Did genies even _know_ what fish were? He doubted they did. And even _if_ they did, how would a desert dweller even know what a decent fishing loot was like, much less a _good_ one? Rin shook the thoughts out of his head when he almost stumbled onto a random passerby, getting nothing but a smile and a wave after his apology. He looked around a few times, trying to make sense of where he had ended up at, since he had been walking aimlessly and completely out of it for a while, and as soon as he found his bearings he headed straight towards the first candy shop he could find. Once inside, he tried not to get caught up staring at the endless rows of sweets, most of which he could not afford with the money he was carrying at the moment, and settled for asking at the counter directly for what he was looking for. He figured he could play it safe and get Gou some strawberry-flavored candy; if he was going to spend his money, he might as well do it on something with higher chances of being well-received. He could not help make a slight face of disappointment when he saw the coins go, but he had already decided not to regret it, and instead focused on the expression Gou would wear when he showed her what he had gotten for her. He smiled again, that thought alone making the transaction completely worth it.

It seemed, however, that Rin was not going to finish his day entirely unrewarded for the good deed he had previously performed. Just as he was handing the shockingly yellow paper bag with his purchase to him, the shopkeeper noticed the huge jar under Rin’s arm and noted how much use he would be able to put to something like that. Rin’s smile turned into a full grin, and in record time he was walking out of the shop with not only a small bag full of candy, but also jar-less and with a pocket jingling with coins. It was not even half of what he had collected from his odd jobs, but profit was profit, and Rin was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or should he be thinking in terms of camels, instead? He decided it did not really matter, in the end; both were probably good enough. The walk back home was less of a walk and more of a run mixed with spontaneous skipping all over the place; Rin was now far, far away in the middle of the desert, raiding maze-like caves and digging up mysterious and nameless jewels befit only for the eyes of the mightiest of sultans. And Gou and him, of course.

 

* * *

 

The following day was slow, and Rin spent most of his time sitting at random corners of the town, overlooking the ocean. He was bored to death and had not made any earnings that day, except for a couple of cookies an old lady had shared with him as thanks for helping her cross the street. He munched on them lazily, feet swinging in the air, while his eyes were fixed on the ocean and how the waves rolled to and fro in the distance, wondering how much longer it would be before his father returned. They had received news that the ship would be out at sea for a few more days, but that sort of vague information did not do anything to aid Rin’s schedules whatsoever. How many days _exactly_ was that? He could only speculate. He figured that, even if his father took at least two more weeks to get home, they could still manage, if they put what his mother could make with her bread and pastries during that time together with what Rin had saved so far. Still, he really hoped a delay of such magnitude did not come to pass, for then he would be back where he had started, and there was nothing Rin hated more than not making any progress. He sighed, refusing to allow himself to worry about things that had not happened yet, and letting his mind wonder back to his father and all the different sorts of adventures he could be taking part of right there, out in the open waters. Rin had long since outgrown the scary sea monster tales, but he still liked to imagine his father braving the waves, struggling against a particularly large haul of fish and ultimately dragging it out of the water, giving out orders on deck in the middle of a heavy rainstorm, undeterred by any harsh weather condition whatsoever. Rin smiled, and sighed, and smiled again, repeating the cycle a few times before noticing the sun had already began to set. Hurriedly, he jumped from the spot he was currently perched in –the short outer wall of someone’s garden–, and made one last round through the town, offering his help to people carrying groceries and delivering change to someone who had forgotten it, but not scoring any particularly well-paying activities for the day. The most he managed to acquire were two potatoes, a bag of rice, and a discount coupon for the drug store, but it was better than nothing. The rice would last them for a while, at least. The sky was already turning dark by the time Rin got home.

In spite of having enjoyed a decent dinner and knowing there would still be enough food at home for the next few days, Rin did not have a very good night’s sleep. He kept tossing and turning, falling in and out of slumber, strange and unsettling dreams plaguing his mind. He could remember nothing but intermittent flashes of empty static, almost like watching an old television set trying to miraculously come across the right dial, and it all made him much too uncomfortable to relax fully. Around four in the morning he gave up, sitting up on his bed and scratching the back of his neck, hanging his head for a moment in hopes of soothing the tension that had accumulated on his shoulders after dozing off in a particularly bad sleeping position. His situation was not looking very good at the moment. Right when he needed all the strength he could muster to take on as many jobs as were available… it was frustrating, to say the least, that he could not even keep himself in enough control of his own brain to get the amount of rest he needed. He kicked the covers with force and climbed off the futon, heading over to his open window, ready to climb out to head towards the beach and spend a few minutes staring out towards the ocean, silencing his thoughts into numbness. For years, Rin had resorted to the ocean whenever he was troubled, the lull of the waves and the soft caress of the sea breeze never failing to put his mind at ease. However, when he already had one knee on the windowsill, he was stopped in his tracks by the sight of a rather large, unevenly round-shaped, red stone, placed right in the middle of it. Rin stared at it curiously for a moment, rubbing his eyes to make sure he was not still half-asleep, and then picked it up, leaning against the window frame as he twirled it in his fingers to examine it. It was completely opaque but otherwise brightly colored, and looked like it had been roughly cut around the edges in the past, but had been later smoothed out with years of wear and tear. Rin did not remember owning such a stone. He poked his head outside the window, looking around to see if there was anyone around who might have accidentally dropped it, but Rin never left his window open at night anyway, so it was impossible for anyone to just…

…Rin was _fairly_ certain his window had been closed when he had gone to bed.

He blinked a few times, scratching his head again and concluding that he had probably been too tired and preoccupied earlier to make sure the latch was secured. Deciding he would not allow the same mistake to happen again, his worries got shelved in the back of his mind as he stared at the stone on his hand again with renewed curiosity and a bit of awe, wondering where it might have come from. His mind conjured up the image of grateful butterfly-winged fairies, and a chuckle slipped past his lips. Holding the stone tightly in his hand, he made sure to close the window firmly and fastened the latch as far as it would go, then hopped straight back into bed, his mind reeling with thoughts of magical creatures and mighty dragons and he wondered what material the stone was made of or how much it would sell for or how it had…

 

* * *

 

Rin was confused. He had woken up to a closed window. He had left the house with a closed window, the red stone stashed secretly inside his pillowcase. He had returned home both for lunch _and_ dinner to a closed window, and had gone to bed after making doubly sure that the window was still firmly locked shut. No mistakes. And yet _still_ he had woken up in the middle of the night, after a particularly weird and disturbing dream of dolphin carcasses lying in the middle of desert dunes, to a window that lay wide open, the night breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean into his room. He could almost smell fresh fish, if he breathed in deep enough. Rin jumped out of his bed, reaching out for the thickest textbook within his reach, and paced the room, flicking the lights on with slightly shaking knees and finding it eerily, but thankfully, empty. Dropping the textbook on the futon with a sigh, he flicked the lights back off and headed over towards the window to close it again, going over the many ways in which he could try to fix it before he was forced to ask his mother to call in for repairs. It was probably the wind, and nothing more. If worst came to worst, he figured he could always sell the red stone he had found the previous night to deal with the cost, but his mood plummeted at the very thought of it. While it was probably worthless and did not serve any purpose in particular, Rin felt a strange sort of attachment to it, like he was meant to keep it. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that it did not occur to him to check the windowsill before closing the window, and it was not until it had almost clicked shut that he heard a soft thud on the other side of the wall. Startled, he bit his lip and took a few moments to scan his surroundings before he pulled the window open again, peeking outside to notice what looked like a small, pinkish stone lying on the ground right underneath his window. Rin’s eyes widened, and he instinctively groped the windowsill with his fingers, checking to see if there were any other objects lying there which he might have missed. When his hands made contact with nothing but the same, sturdy old wood that had been there since he could remember, he climbed out of his room to recover the stone that had been pushed outside on accident. His bare feet landed soundlessly on the empty street, and he looked in every direction before kneeling down to pick it up. Again he twirled it in his fingers, and this time the material was slightly translucent, and shimmered gently under the moonlight, the edges perfectly smooth and round. Rin was very confused. Rin was _very_ confused but the stone was pretty and free-of-charge and there was nobody around to claim it, so he held it firmly in his hand and climbed back inside, closing the window shut again and placing a few heavy textbooks against it for added measure. Lying back on the futon again, he took the red stone from his pillowcase and held them both side by side, wondering where they might have come from. When his mind once again drifted to dungeon swordfights and goblins and hidden treasures, he figured he was not in the mood for more weird dreams, deciding to call it a day and go back to sleep. Another sleepless night was definitely not what he needed at the moment.

 

* * *

 

The following day was just as slow as the previous ones, and Rin spent most of it randomly dozing off at different places in town. He had failed to get proper sleep again, the combination of his imagination going wild and another set of disturbing dreams, this time of barren wastelands –he thought he had seen geysers at one point, but Rin had never actually seen geysers in his entire life and thus had no way of knowing if he was right or not–, keeping him from getting the rest he needed. A woman had even offered to walk him back home at one point, but Rin had politely refused and put on his best energetic act, doing his rounds as usual and becoming progressively more and more disheartened as the daytime hours went by. There was literally nothing for him to do but roam the town in silence, looking out towards the ocean every now and then. He had barely spent any time at the beach after the small incident with those children, and smiled to himself at the prospect of going for a swim with his family once his father returned from the trip. Just thinking of diving under the waves and tasting the salt water on his lips was enough to make his skin tingle with excitement, and he decided, since there was nothing productive he could do for the moment, to go back home and suggest the little excursion to his sister, and hopefully recruit her help in convincing their mother to go through with it. He ran all the way back home with a renewed spark in his eyes, in spite of the sky not even being dark yet, and was received with the fortunate news that his father would probably arrive at the port the following day. In his excitement, Rin completely forgot to make sure his window was still closed before going to bed that night.

 

For the third night in a row, he woke up with a start. This time, however, he did not dream of wastelands or deserts or creepy television static. Rin was shaken awake in a cold sweat after what was a very vivid dream of drowning, and he suddenly wished he had not suggested the trip to the ocean in the first place. He immediately sat up, the coughing reflex dying once it was clear that there was no water rushing into his throat and nostrils nor filling up his lungs. Running a hand through his hair, he let his eyelids fall shut and took a deep breath in an effort to calm down, and was once again assaulted by the poignant smell of fresh fish filling his room.

That could only mean one thing.

Snapping his eyes open, Rin turned towards the window. Again, it was wide open, the thin curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. Rin swallowed hard as he let his eyes settle on the windowsill, where, _again_ , something small and shiny was casually placed. He completely gave up on trying to figure out how the window had opened. Perhaps he had taken to sleepwalking lately. But, even in that case, where were all those objects coming from? Cautiously, he tiptoed towards the window, peeking outside left and right before turning his gaze towards the new mysterious item, taking it carefully in his hands. It was a delicate, thin chain, perhaps a small necklace or a loose bracelet, and Rin had to squint really hard to even attempt to make out the material in the dark. In the end, he had no choice but to resort to flicking the lights on, and his eyes widened with a gasp when he realized what he was currently holding was most probably made of gold. He held it up in front of his face, admiring it for a few moments, twisting and turning it in his fingers, trying to make sense out of why something like that would be placed on his window, of all places. Rin had never actually owned anything of the sort, and it was highly likely that he was wrong about the material. He still gave the chain an experimental bite, which proved useless, as he had no idea what the ideal result was supposed to be, even, but he had a _hunch_ that he was right, and Rin’s heart was seldom mistaken about certain things.

He went through the motions that followed almost automatically, shocked into numbness as he tried to figure out the reason behind the mysterious appearance of all those presents. Was that even what they were? Were they actually meant for him at all? Had somebody perhaps made a huge mistake, getting the wrong window instead? Were there more waiting for him? After all, Rin had not spoken to anyone about them– he had, however, given the pink stone to Gou as a gift, telling her he had stumbled upon it on the beach, and had asked her to keep it a secret between the two of them. In case the gift-giver had been expecting a reaction from whoever it was that they had been hoping to give the gifts too, they might still be waiting for one. But how could Rin parade himself around the streets safely while asking if nobody had lost a chain made of _gold_? It was impossible for him to have it appraised, either; rumors spread rapidly around Iwatobi, especially with a shopkeeper that could go on talking for hours, whether she managed to make any sense with her words or not. Surely the entire town would jump at his neck for a chance to have it. Rin’s hands were practically shaking when he finally managed to get the window closed after a few failed attempts, trying his best to steady his breath, and finally coming to a decision. He would have to figure out this puzzle all on his own, and no amount of thinking or wondering was going to lead him anywhere. If he wanted answers, he would have to _do_ something about it. Therefore, he decided, whoever it was that was leaving these items on his window, he was going to catch them. Resolve had Rin flopping onto the futon with a loud thud, once again putting his treasures away safely inside his pillowcase, and he enjoyed the best sleep he had had in days. The ocean was peaceful in his dreams that night, and Rin swam to his heart’s content.

 

* * *

 

The following day kicked off abruptly, an emotional rollercoaster for Rin, right from the very beginning of it. Early in the morning, even before the sun had risen, his mother’s voice boomed through the house, urging her children to hurry and get dressed to receive their father at the port. Rin woke up brimming with energy and was ready in a flash, carrying a very sleepy Gou by the hand as they made their way through the streets not too long after the crack of dawn, their mother carrying their humble breakfasts to eat on their way. There was already a decent group of people gathered at their destination when they arrived, all waiting for their own relatives to appear over the horizon, flowers and freshly baked bread occupying some hands, hand-painted banners and moist handkerchiefs in others. Rin was practically jumping with excitement, running through the crowd and sitting at the edge of the pier, then going back to his mother and reminding her of the trip to the ocean –the vivid drowning sensation long forgotten after the wonderful rest he had had that night–, then going down to the beach with Gou to collect some seashells, then once again diving through the crowd to get a better look at the dawn-tinted waves. He absolutely could not sit still all morning, and even when it was almost midday when the fishing boat finally came to a stop among shouts and cheers and a few tears from lonely, newlywed wives, Rin was still as energetic as he had been right after waking up. Indeed, he successfully tackled his well-built, tired father to the ground only a few seconds after they had made eye contact with each other.

“Heey, how’s my champ doing?” The man smiled an exhausted but genuine grin, and in that moment there would have not been a soul in the entire world who would have been able to deny they were father and son, their expressions only set apart by the age gap between them. Messing up Rin’s hair with both hands, the man managed to distract his boy long enough to sit up straight. “Been taking care of your sister, hm?”

“Yeah!” Rin smiled brighter than ever, and laughed merrily when his father picked him up and set him on his shoulders, half-whining about how he was too old for that. But his father shot his complaints down with something akin to “nonsense, you’ll always be my little boy,” and Rin was honestly mortified, trying in vain to hide behind his father’s head. “Daa–ad!”

Their happy bantering went unnoticed among all the reunions taking place around them, and soon Gou was latching onto his father’s legs, much like Rin used to do himself when he was younger, while their mother smiled and leaned forward to place a soft kiss on her husband’s lips. “Rough trip?” she asked kindly, fixing his hair and caressing the ocean-hardened skin of his cheeks. His only reply was to pet his daughter’s head and bump foreheads with his wife, to which she nodded solemnly, a smile resurfacing on her face shortly after. “We’ll manage,” she assured him, and Rin, who until now was simply watching the exchange in silence, tugged at his father’s ears, grinning widely.

“Leave it to me!” he beamed proudly, “I’ll make more than enough for the both of us!” He was exaggerating on purpose, but his father paid him no mind and laughed hoarsely, patting his son’s leg with his free hand, his expression mirroring Rin’s.

“I know you will, Rin.”

It broke Rin’s heart to realize his father was probably right, but he did not allow it to show.

 

Most of the rest of the day was spent at home, since, much to Rin’s and Gou’s dismay, their father was much too tired to spend an entire afternoon at the beach. It had turned out that the catch had been miserable, to say the least, and some technical difficulties with the nets had been what had forced them to extend their already rather futile fishing trip past its previous deadline. His father’s long-awaited performance and story-telling was also more subdued than usual, and Rin could see in his eyes just how disappointed he was about not being able to live up to his family’s expectations, nor being able to cater to their needs even after all that hard work away from home. There was no other moment at which Rin felt more aligned to his father’s emotions, recognizing the same frustration inside himself immediately. Fearing the air in the room felt as tense to everyone else as it did to him, Rin decided it was his duty as the older brother to distract Gou while their parents discussed the more morbid issues related to their current situation, and how to face the upcoming weeks. Still, even though he made sure to tune out their words as he humored his sister with her pretend tea-party, he could still hear the strain in their voices as if the sound was tearing a hole through the walls.

“It makes me sad when Daddy can’t catch a lot of fishies,” Gou had said out of nowhere, breaking out of her shrine maiden character and derailing Rin’s train of thought, “but it’s nice that they won’t get eaten.” Rin was left speechless for a moment while his sister returned to playing with her dolls as if nothing had been said, completely oblivious to the effect her words had had on her brother. It was so much like sweet, sweet Gou to be kind-hearted towards the very thing they needed to hunt for survival. Rin thought back briefly to the treasures he was keeping inside his pillowcase, and in that moment he was certain that he would not mind parting with them, as much as it would have hurt to do so, as long as it meant protecting his sister from the harshness of the world a little while longer. He did his best to smile for her, momentarily forgetting about everything else except for the way in which her eyes gleamed for him in return.

 

* * *

 

The night creeped up on Rin painfully slowly as he sat restless in his room, the hours ticking by at a snail’s pace, and yet his eyes never left the window he had purposefully, for once, left open. Since his secret visitor had always arrived while he was sleeping, Rin had no way of knowing exactly at what time they would show up. Thus, he was huddled into a tiny ball in a dark corner of his room, lights out and wrapped up in a blanket, his futon laid out like every other night, with his pillow posing as his sleeping body. He had been waiting for what seemed like forever, and yet the night was still, the breeze gentle and serene and carrying none of the scents he was on the lookout for. It was hard for Rin not to doze off, but he was determined to solve the mystery once and for all. Putting the strange and, frankly, rather ridiculous matter behind him was the first step he needed to take in order to be able to focus all of his strength into helping his family. After the promise he had made to his father earlier that day, more sleepless nights ahead of him were something Rin could simply not afford at the moment. His eyelids felt heavy and he was pretty certain he dreamed of the ocean a few times, but the sleep was shaken away from him entirely when he thought he heard a faint rustling on the narrow street outside.

Rin’s entire frame went stiff with anticipation as he leaned towards the window, crouching like a hunter waiting to pounce on his unsuspecting prey. He moved slowly, crawling as quietly as possible, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he neared the source of the noise, having to hurriedly slap a hand against his mouth when something that sounded like a loud squawk filled the night air. What was _that_? Rin was certain he had not accidentally stepped on anything, but he turned nonetheless, confirming there was nothing on the floor of his room that could have made such a sound. The outside seemed to have gone deathly quiet as well, and for a moment Rin wondered if perhaps his visitor had been scared off and had left. He certainly hoped that was not the case, not when he was so close to seeing them face to face. But then the rustling returned and Rin sprang to his feet, rushing towards the window and looking out in every direction, ready to scream for the stalker to show themselves. His eyes met with nothing but the dark, empty street, however, and Rin was getting ready to go back to his waiting position with a sigh, when suddenly another squawking sound cut his breath short.

Rin’s head turned to the ground directly under his window, and his eyes went wide as saucers, mouth gaping in surprise and confusion when his gaze landed on the weirdest and most unexpected scene, the kind of which he would never have expected to lay his eyes upon. Right there in front of him, struggling to stay upright from the added weight of what looked like a jade bracelet on its head, was a penguin –rockhopper, was it? It certainly looked like one–, swaying in the darkness as it tried to balance itself. Rin was about to reach out to help it, for it seemed like it would end up falling to the side, but his help was unneeded, as none other than the very familiar purple butterfly Rin had saved four days ago pushed it forward with unbelievable force, helping the penguin to steady itself with a thud.

 

Rin had to force himself to blink.

 

He had absolutely no idea what he was seeing. He did not know what he had been expecting, really, but he was certain that even in his wildest dreams he would never have been able to come up with something like _that_. The reality in front of him was… it was something else. It was so bizarre and unexpected that Rin could not even begin to question it, simply because he had no idea where to start. He was so out of it, in his confusion, that when the penguin and the butterfly finally managed to make their way to the window, he had failed to hide again. As a result, as soon as they noticed him standing there, the poor animals were scared out of their wits, scrambling loudly all over the street and rushing to get away in spite of Rin’s hushed cries.

“Wait!” He tried, his voice quiet but still loud enough to be heard over the noises the penguin was making as it waddled away in fear. “Hold on! Don’t be afraid—” His efforts proved thoroughly useless, however, so Rin jumped out of his window and hurried after the two creatures, following them through alleyways and even narrower streets in nothing but his salmon-colored pajamas and his bare feet, calling after them as quietly as he could manage, but not once did he get them to stop.

The chase was relentless, growing increasingly more frantic as they made their way throughout the maze-like structure of Iwatobi, and it continued until the very edge of the town, right up until where the beach started to stretch into the darkness. While Rin’s knowledge of the town’s layout had helped him keep the distance between them steady, he knew it was futile to follow a sea animal into the ocean. Thus, he slowed his pace down to a stop on the sand, panting and huffing as he tried to catch his breath. He could understand it of a butterfly, which had the advantage of its wings, but how in the world could a penguin run so fast!? Dejected at his inability to catch up to them, Rin lifted his gaze, expecting both animals to have disappeared into the night already, but instead saw them both standing and floating, respectively, a little further ahead along the coast.

They were both turned towards him, watching him.

Rin stared back in disbelief, straightening when his breathing finally eased again, and in all that time the animals did nothing to escape. The penguin was still clumsily balancing the bracelet on its head –how it had not been dropped yet was a mystery–, its beady eyes boring right into his, almost as if urging him to make a move. Rin swallowed hard, gathering his courage to take a step forward, and almost immediately the animals moved a step back, keeping the distance between them unchanged. Rin paused again, and then tried taking a step back, instead, and both animals became visibly more nervous in response, the butterfly fluttering all over the penguin’s head while the latter squawked and waddled from side to side and to and fro, almost as if debating itself whether going after Rin was a good idea or not.

So they… did not want him to leave.

Rin fidgeted in place before he took another tentative step forward, and the animals stilled for once, watching him as he took yet another step, and another, neither of the two backing away in the least. He managed to advance until he was about five steps away from them without inciting any sort of movement, and only as he made to move again did the critters spring into action. The butterfly anxiously lunged forward to flutter all around him, which startled Rin long enough for him not to notice the penguin latching onto his pants with its beak, and pulling him towards the shore, into the ocean. Rin gasped when the cold water made contact with his feet, failing to step back due to the unbelievable strength the penguin sported, and fell flat on his bum right on top of the rolling tide.

“Ow!” He whined, attempting to get up before he became officially soaked, but the penguin simply refused to release its hold on his clothes, intent on dragging him further into the ocean. “Stop that!” he cried, trying to push it off, but the butterfly fluttered all over his hand, as if trying to get in his way. “What’s wrong with you guys…?” It was clearly impossible to reason with animals, but Rin still tried, attempting to make sense of why a penguin and a butterfly would leave gifts on his windowsill only to try to… drown him in the ocean later? If that was their way of showing their gratitude, it was a pretty lousy one, to say the least. He struggled for another moment, and again the butterfly did its best to stop him, and again the penguin did its best to drag him across the sand, further into the waves.

By the time Rin managed to stand up straight again without tumbling forward –that was one stupidly powerful and stubborn penguin, he noted–, the water had already risen past his knees, and he could physically feel the pull of the tide, stronger than ever before. The sand beneath his feet kept giving way, forcing him to continuously change his footing, which the penguin used to his advantage to pull him further in, much to Rin’s confusion and panic. It was as if every single element of nature was working against him, trying to force him to let go and allow the two overly excited animals to have their way with him. The jade bracelet the penguin had been carrying had long since fallen into the sea, and somewhere in the back of his mind Rin wondered if they had perhaps been hoping to lure him into the water all along. With a sigh, he swatted the butterfly away to the best of his abilities, but still failed at disengaging the penguin from his pajama pants. There was little he could do now but relent, and hope that the two creatures were not in fact looking forward to watching him drown under the waves.

“Okay, okay, _fine_ ,” Rin sighed in defeat, holding his hands up above his head, just in case his words were not enough to convey his desire to surrender. “I’ll follow you. But _please_ don’t drown me, okay? I can’t breathe underwater like you.” He directed the last bit at the penguin, and for the very first time in the night the butterfly seemed to take his side, perching itself on his shoulder in what looked like support.

So they _could_ understand his words. Alright. That was good enough, he guessed.

The penguin squawked cheerfully, releasing its hold on Rin’s clothes and moving further towards the sea, turning every other time to make sure he was still following it. Meanwhile, Rin moved ahead with caution, swallowing nervously; he had never headed too far out before, much less in the middle of the night, always heeding his father’s warnings to be respectful of the of the ocean’s strength. But the penguin did not seem to want to stop, and soon it was swimming happily all around the dark waters, while Rin was busy debating whether to take another step forward or simply return to the beach. Considering the water was already almost up to his chest, chilling every single bone in his body, it seemed like a sensible thing to do.

“Can’t we turn back?” he dared to ask through chattering teeth, and as soon as the words left his mouth, the penguin abandoned its relaxed swimming to speed right towards him, stopping short of headbutting him straight in the middle of the chest. Rin tried to protest, but the bird would not stop moving, apparently wanting him to do _something_. Unfortunately, in spite of all his love for the ocean, Rin had never learned to communicate with sea creatures, and he had no way of knowing exactly what it wanted. Eventually, the penguin grew tired of his lack of reaction, and it dived into the water, slamming against Rin’s hands and poking his fingers with his beak.

“Hey!” Rin cried again, but the penguin was now snuggling against his palm and… was it asking Rin to hold onto its body? That was his best –and only– guess, and Rin saw no other choice but to follow his own hunch.

He could not see anything in the darkness, so he did his best to grab hold of the small bird, and as soon as he managed to do so the penguin began speeding under the water, dragging Rin ahead with such speed and force that he had to gasp for breath before the water covered him completely, struggling to keep his grip from slipping. Thankfully it did not stay underwater for long, and Rin could break the surface of the ocean long enough to breathe, blinking the salt water off his eyes.

No matter how he tried to look at his current situation, it was clear to Rin that he was in the worst possible position. He could see absolutely nothing ahead; his eyes felt heavy and most of his body was starting to go numb from the cold, and he was pretty sure that the penguin had swam fast enough during that short amount of time to drag him considerably far away from the shore. There was nothing but darkness all around him, and he could distinguish no shapes that could indicate exactly where they were, except for the stars littering the night sky, and the butterfly that was flying behind them, hurrying to catch up. Rin did not want to admit it, but he was really starting to panic. Where were these creatures taking him? He wished he had a way of asking and getting answers from them.

“O-Okay, this was fun!” he smiled and spoke as amiably as he could, teeth clattering in the cold, “but I really need to get home now, or my parents will get worried, and–”

Rin never got to finish his sentence, for the penguin suddenly dived under the surface again, dragging him down as well, and for the half-second Rin was spared to take a deep breath, he could have sworn the little naughty thing had done that on purpose. They kept moving downwards, unlike before, and he wished he had been warned more appropriately, if at all. Compared to other children his age, Rin was proud to be able to hold his breath underwater for a decent amount of time, but he could not beat a penguin at it, and he hoped with all his heart that this particular one was aware of their difference in ability. Indeed, just as Rin was starting to feel the lack of oxygen pounding painfully in his head, the penguin slowed its movements and disentangled itself from his hands, pushing Rin’s fingers forward with its head until they bumped into something solid and slightly slippery. But it was not the sudden contact, nor the smoothness of the surface he was touching, nor the fact that something huge had suddenly appeared right in front of him that came as a surprise to Rin.

 

Rin’s jaw dropped and his eyes went wide because he was pretty certain he was still underwater, but now he could suddenly _breathe_.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note ~~in case there's anyone who might be wondering right now~~ : THERE WILL BE EXACTLY ZERO SMUT IN THIS FIC. **ZERO. ZILCH. _NADA_.**
> 
> Also ENDGAME IS RINHARU. ~~I don't write anything _but_ , so I shouldn't have to clarify this, but JUST IN CASE ANYONE IS SCARED. IT'S RINHARURIN SHARKBAIT MY SHINING CHERRY BLOSSOMS AND RAINBOWS HAVE TAKEN OVER MY LIFE SHOUJO OTP etcetcetc. FOREVER.~~
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Castle of Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin follows the animals towards the unknown. What do they want from him, and what will he find?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! I am extremely sorry for the wait, but I didn't remember how rough the chapter was since last November, and I really wanted to do the fic justice with it. It was hard work, but it's finally finished! I hope you'll enjoy it!

 

 

Even if he had been able to muster enough courage to momentarily detach himself from… whatever it was that he was holding onto in order to pinch his own cheek, Rin guessed he would not have tried to. Logically speaking, it was impossible for the things he was seeing to be real, but it was all way too strange to be a dream, either. He had had his fair share of those in the past few days, and yet none came even close to what was currently unfolding right in front of his very eyes.

Rin was floating underwater, hands pressed against a smooth surface that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere in the darkness, and there was _air_ , as absurd as it sounded, flowing in and out of his parted lips. He watched the bubbles moving upwards through the water, trying to follow them in the dark as they made for the surface above. Though slightly more subdued than before, cold still surrounded his body, seeping into his bones and making him shudder, and he forced his slightly numb legs into kicking motions to keep himself in place. Still, no matter what movement he made or how much time passed, absolutely no liquid passed neither into his nose nor into his mouth as he breathed, jaw slack with surprise. His pajamas seemed to feel less heavy, as well, as if the thoroughly drenched fabric was no longer weighing him down—rather, it felt as if his clothes were not even wet anymore, merely floating along with him in the water. He felt like he had been suspended in place, with nothing but dark waves and bubbles moving in front of his eyes, and if not for the freezing shivers running through his body nor the struggle to remain upright, Rin might have been fooled into believing he was not in the ocean anymore.

A sudden rush of water and the sound of a loud slap effectively broke Rin out of his trance. He turned his head to the side to find the penguin, its shape barely discernible in the water, squawking loudly and giving a few energetic slaps to the surface which Rin was holding onto. Rin found out with disappointment that his newfound breathing ability did nothing to help him understand the animals, but it was still easy enough to guess that the bird was making a point of not letting go. He had no intention to. Rin was absolutely entranced by the smooth object in front of him, which seemed to be floating along with him, expanding and contracting slowly as he moved his hands over it in wonder. At that moment, the smile on Rin’s face could have lighted up the entire ocean. It was as if that one dream he had never realized he yearned for had suddenly come true. He could breathe underwater. What more could he possibly ask for? Well, he still could not see a thing, but he guessed there was always the slight chance he would get used to the darkness eventually –even though he was in the ocean, the salt did not sting his eyes anymore– as long as he made sure to stay close to the mysterious surface. Just being in contact with it had made him able to breathe, so who could say that it could not eventually grant him that wish as well?

The huge structure suddenly moved underneath his palms, and it was by the cries it made that Rin realized he was most likely not holding onto an inanimate object, but onto a large, underwater creature, an animal that was currently lowering itself in the water, inviting him to sit on its back. Rin did precisely that, sliding his hands along its skin as it positioned itself beneath him, never breaking contact. He bent his legs to straddle it, and found out with surprise that his body no longer threatened to float up once he had managed it. The panic and worry over the thought of drowning had faded into the back of his mind, and now his entire being was brimming with excitement. From the looks of things, it was only the beginning of his impromptu adventure, and Rin could not help but wonder what these sea creatures might have in store for him. A faint rustle against his cheek made him notice that the butterfly was perched on his shoulder again –he had absolutely no sensible answer as to how a butterfly was breathing underwater, but then again, so was he– and as soon as the penguin had made itself comfortable on Rin’s lap, the larger creature started to move, diving lower and lower towards the ocean depths. Rin’s grin widened. He would have screamed if he could have.

…ah, but he probably _could_.

“Where are we going?” he asked, voice vibrating with delight and eyes wide with curiosity.  His words earned him nothing but a mouthful of hair, and he immediately spit it out, swaying his head to keep his bangs from sticking to his face. “Ugh, I can’t see anything!”

The animals could obviously not give him an answer, but from what little he could still see, Rin noticed that the penguin looked restless, probably just as, if not _more_ excited than he himself was. The butterfly, on the other hand, seemed much too concentrated on holding onto Rin’s clothes to pay mind to his question, and the large animal underneath them simply wailed serenely in the water, ferrying them further downwards with ever increasing speed. Rin had no choice but to wait, and it took every bit of his concentration to sit still. He kept rocking in place, legs swinging back and forth as they continued their dive, and his entire body felt jittery and tingly. Wise enough as he was not to risk it, Rin still wished he could just jump off and _swim_.

Their pace hastened with each passing second, encouraged by the penguin’s cheers, and soon enough they were propelling onwards so fast that Rin could physically feel the water rushing past him like a torrent. With a wince, he leaned closer to the large creature’s back, and hunched his shoulders a little so the poor butterfly could hide safely in the crook of his neck, lest it be blown away with the force of the waves. He could not help the light laugh that escaped him when its wings fluttered against his neck, and Rin was glad that his hair was being blown back with enough strength that it did not get in his mouth again. Unfortunately, however, the darkness grew thicker the lower they went, and the temperature kept dropping steadily, making Rin wish he had brought his jacket, or at least a pair of socks, along. He blinked as they continued downwards, gritting his chattering teeth, and trying his best not to accidentally dig his nails into the whale’s skin, the cold sending uncontrollable shivers all over his body.

Rin was not scared. He had never been particularly afraid of the dark, nor of the ocean, and for whatever reason he felt relatively safe with the company he was keeping, regardless of how strange it was. He could not deny that the thought of diving into the ocean in the middle of the night, with the addition of the strange marine life –and one which was clearly out of place– would make anyone extremely nervous for more reasons than he could count. It definitely was not the wisest move. There were so many things that could go wrong, if he thought about it. What if he slipped and happened to let go of the whale? What if the butterfly ended up being blown away? What if the miracle or magic or whatever it was that was helping him breathe had a time limit, and what if he was not back up on the surface when it ran out? Could he go back, even? How did he know if he was not being kidnapped, never to be seen on land ever again? Would the animals bring him down there with them if it meant exposing him to danger? Did they care if anything should happen to him? Not one person would have been able to blame him for being afraid. And yet, as their journey dragged on, fear was not what plagued Rin’s thoughts.

He was definitely not opposed to exploring the depths of the sea; quite the contrary, after growing up listening to his father ramble on and on about the wondrous, unimaginable things that were likely to be found down there, where no man had ventured before, it would have been an understatement to say that Rin was happier than he had ever been in his entire life. He was more than excited to take part in such an adventure, even more so since he no longer had to worry –to an extent– about drowning, but the fact that it was so dark that he could barely make out his companions anymore was a sore disappointment, to say the least. He had been hoping to see colorful schools of fish and breathtaking barrier reefs, the likes of which he had read about countless times in his books, not to be surrounded by an all-encompassing, bone-chilling darkness. It felt as if someone had spilled the thickest, blackest ink over his bright childhood dreams, leaving him all alone in the dark. His pajamas were doing little to shelter him from the cold, too, and he felt very sore, numb, and small at that moment. It was a silly thought, considering everything that was happening around him, but Rin was slightly angry with himself that, no matter how much he loved the ocean, no matter how much effort he put into holding his breath underwater or strengthening his limbs for a swim, he would always be a foreigner in it.

At that very moment, Rin started blinking, because he was certain that, somewhere in the distance, he could see the faintest, tiniest spec of light.

He tried to focus on it, wondering if it had not been his imagination, perhaps; a product of his wishful thinking. But it was then that he noticed how the waves were gradually beginning to turn bluer and clearer, as if moonlight had suddenly started sifting through the water, the soft glow making way for all sorts of forms and shapes to become discernible before his eyes. As the darkness around him began to dissipate, Rin realized with amazement that he was actually riding on a huge orca whale –he had never even _dreamed_ of seeing one up so close, much less of getting the chance to _ride_ one– and his smile widened as the light around him spread, revealing all sorts of tiny creatures dancing curiously around them through the waves. Small fish of all kinds would join their group for a while, circling above and below or clinging to the whale’s fins for a short moment, and would then go straight back to their own course; the penguin waving at every single one of them as if it were a diva in the middle of a celebratory parade. Rin chuckled, snapping his head to the sides so fast, in an attempt not to miss anything that was going on around him, that on several occasions he almost ended up accidentally knocking the poor butterfly off his shoulder. He made sure to apologize profusely to it each time and, thankfully, it did not look very offended, but was otherwise shaking like a leaf in the wind—or a monsoon, more accurately, with the speed at which the whale was currently coursing through the water. Poor thing. Rin could do nothing else but try to keep it as close as possible, and hope that their trip would not extend much further than it already had.

Rin was unsure if the other two had also noticed the butterfly’s distress or if they were actually nearing their destination –wherever that was– because the whale immediately began reducing its speed, returning little by little to that very same calm pace at which they had started their journey off with. The timing was absolutely flawless, and the butterfly seemed to appreciate it greatly; Rin would have patted the whale’s back in appreciation if he had not been extremely wary of the consequences of putting even a _hair_ of distance between his hands and its smooth back. He was about to speak up when the animal began leveling itself, and Rin’s eyes widened in wonder.

In his marveling about the ocean life, he had failed to notice that, regardless of the seamless, vivid blue that spread wherever he looked, they had never actually resurfaced. Just one look at his surroundings, at the weathered rocks and the age old sand and the seemingly infinite expanse of water that stretched over his head, and it was not difficult for Rin to guess that his entourage had reached the unbelievably bright ocean floor. For the life of him, Rin could not tell how it was possible for it to be so light and clear in that place, deep under the waters. Even if they had been near the shallows somewhere, he was positive their journey had not been that long, so it was probably still the middle of the night, and it was definitely strange for everything to suddenly be so luminous around them. Sand flew up in a wave, disturbed by their sudden arrival, and it found its way into Rin’s gaping mouth, making him cough and blink his eyes shut to keep it at bay. When it seemed like it had settled at last, if the penguin’s energetic squawking was anything to go by, Rin lifted his eyes to look ahead, hoping for a few hints as to where he had been brought to. What he saw in front of him made him gasp loudly in surprise, accidentally scaring off a few stray fish that had wondered close to examine him.

Right in front of him, right in the middle of the _ocean_ , and surrounded by a seemingly endless stone wall, stood an imposing, ancient looking castle. An array of portraits of feudal lords of old instantly flashed through Rin’s mind as the whale made its way towards it, the traditional edifications towering ahead making him sigh in amazement.

 

There was a castle.

 

At the bottom of the ocean.

 

An actual, real _castle_.

 

Rin was still very much awake and breathing underwater, accompanied by a strange assortment of living creatures, and being carried through the unnaturally bright ocean depths, and yet, were he asked to name the strangest thing he had seen that night, he would reply that _there was a castle at the bottom of the ocean_ standing in front of his very eyes. It was nothing short of magnificent, and the ruins that littered the countryside on the land from where he came from could not even _begin_ to compare to the beauty of what he was seeing. Endless rows of towers and roofs littered the insides of the wall, and even though Rin craned his neck as far as he dared, he could not see the end of it.

The castle was clearly, physically in front of him, and yet Rin found it difficult to believe his eyes. It was already nothing short of a miracle that he had played along without doubting himself so far: any sane human being would have probably stopped believing anything they were seeing was real after finding a penguin and a butterfly, no less, setting presents on their windowsill. Rin could have easily attributed the strange visions to his lack of sleep, but he did not dare question the reality of it all. He still had absolutely no idea what it was that the animals wanted with him, but the ride across the ocean and the sight of the underwater castle alone were more than enough to satisfy his thirst for a break in the normalcy of his everyday life. In buying off a captive butterfly from a bunch of mean children, Rin had stumbled face first into a real adventure. If, by any chance, it was the animals’ objective to thank him, then he felt the debt was already more than repaid.

 

The waters within the castle walls were so calm that Rin almost forgot he was under the surface, the most prominent reminder being the ever blue ceiling of water above them; a fake, moonlight-tinted sky that stretched as far as the eye could see. He watched his surroundings in amazement, staring at every crevice and every wood splinter as they moved through the large, open gates, forgetting himself and those around him for a moment, and blinking back into focus only once he noticed the whale’s movements had practically come to a stop. It was hovering calmly in a large, open space, right at the beginning –or was it the end?– of a gravel path, which stood in a firm, straight line on the sand. Rin felt as if something wanted to take over him as he followed it with his eyes; the path seemed to be beckoning him, urging him to make his way across, past another large, open gate, and further into the inner segments of the castle.

Rin sat motionless on the whale’s back even as the penguin slid happily off of it, tobogganing along its side in one swift movement. It squawked loudly and comfortably waddled forward, its steps echoing in the absolute silence, and then turned to stare at Rin, once it noticed the boy had not followed, to call for him even louder still. The sounds did little to encourage him, making Rin’s entire body freeze with doubt, instead. As inviting as the mysteriousness of the castle was to him, there was no way he was simply going to let go of the whale while they were still underwater, risking a pair of water-filled lungs and a sorry end to his short life. He would be a fool to do so without any guarantee that he would be able to continue breathing without its help. Thus, he gulped nervously, remaining still as a rock, his eyes fixed on the gravel path. He hunched his shoulders abruptly when the penguin began whining furiously, its shrill cries upsetting the otherwise perfect tranquility of the castle.

Before Rin could do so much as open his mouth to refuse, time around him seemed to come to an sudden standstill as he saw, from the corner of his eye, the faint flutter of the butterfly’s wings. Rin watched it in silence as it lifted itself from his shoulder without an ounce of doubt, and flew downwards towards the penguin. It crossed the space in front of Rin’s eyes almost in slow motion, moving through the water with the gentle, firm movements of its wings, the insistent calls of the other animal completely muted in the absolute beauty of the action. Before Rin could take a moment to process what had happened, the butterfly was already flying merrily beside the penguin, floating calmly, almost as if trying to reassure Rin that there was nothing to be afraid of, and its wings seemed to form unspoken words in the water.

 

_From this point onward, even land dwellers such as us are welcome. Doubt not, and step forward onto the sand_.

 

Rin blinked a few times, and then shook his head in disbelief. He could not believe what he was thinking. Butterflies did not speak, penguins did not invite small children into the sea, and whales did not ferry humans through the ocean depths. Those were the truths which Rin had learned throughout his life, and yet there he was, hesitating as he scooted to the side, very slowly, turning his body on order to attempt sliding off the whale’s back. With a gulp, Rin braced himself for the fall, eyes wide and one foot dangling ridiculously in the air. Once again, the whale seemed to anticipate his actions, for it twisted slowly to the side of its own accord, leaving a very surprised and slightly frightened Rin only inches away from the seabed as he slipped off and landed squarely on the balls of his feet with a gasp. The slight shift meant that Rin’s hands were thankfully still pressed against the whale's body, and he stood frozen for another long moment, the penguin’s cries forgotten as he gathered all of his courage to make the inevitable move.

Swallowing audibly and taking a deep breath, Rin curled his fingers and then pulled his hands away little by little, effectively separating himself from the whale in a slow, careful motion. Time seemed to stretch into eternity as Rin doubted whether to take it back and hold on to it again or not. His chance was short-lived, however, for the large mammal had already straightened and steadied itself again with a soft wail in a second, leaving Rin wide eyed and nervous as he stood in the sand. Instinctively holding his breath, it took Rin a moment to decide to release a fraction of the air he was holding, and to his surprise, no stream of bubbles was visible in front of him. He let a little more air slip out for good measure, and again, the water in front of his eyes did not stir in the least. He tested a short inhale right afterwards—and the rush of oxygen through his nostrils was immediate.

Rin let out a loud sigh of relief, and the whale circled around him, its cries sounding cheerful and encouraging. Having once again dispelled the impending doom of drowning, the water around him light and almost imperceptible to the touch, Rin’s composure immediately became more relaxed, and his lips curved up in a smile. He curiously checked his clothes, his hair—his entire body seemed to be completely dry, not much different than usual. The sand beneath his feet felt cool, exactly like it did when the surf had just swept over it, and Rin wiggled his toes into it with glee, like he always did during his strolls along the beach. A small bump against his side brought him back to reality, and Rin turned to see the whale nosing him eagerly, inviting him to move. With a grin, he mouthed a small thank you to it before starting to walk over towards the other two, who were already farther ahead along the road. Rin had no time to adjust to the feel of the gravel against his bare feet, because the penguin was still squawking at him obnoxiously, and even the butterfly’s movements had become slightly erratic, as if urging him to hurry. Rin simply chuckled and followed, breaking into a slow run, the gravel crunching softly beneath his feet.

 

* * *

 

Forgetting that he was actually under the sea was much easier than he had imagined. Rin was being led through gates and corridors and gardens, up along stone staircases and past sliding doors, and save for a few tufts of algae here and there, everywhere he looked the hints of ocean life were minimal. The space around him felt thin and empty, like air, and the wood beneath his bare feet –which, like everything else around him, felt completely dry, somehow– creaked much like the one in his own room did. Together with the sound of panels sliding open and closed, it was the only noise that reached his ears after a few moments of nothing but walking. Everything looked absolutely immaculate and wonderful, and yet Rin could not help but feel somewhat uneasy about it all. The silence was eerie, but more so was the complete and utter lack of other living creatures in the humongous castle. It felt as if his very breaths echoed through the halls and the seemingly endless grounds, and even though Rin and his animal companions walked for what seemed like hours, their paths crossed with nothing but a lone starfish in a corner, and a small goldfish which immediately disappeared from view, most likely frightened by the presence of a human in the otherwise empty building. The existence of an underwater palace was simply astounding, too marvelous for words, and yet Rin’s enjoyment of it was clouded by a strong echo of loneliness lingering in the air, painting the colorless waters with a stagnant sensation of dread. There was no apparent reason for him to feel this way, and yet something nameless seemed to reverberate through him, making Rin feel smaller and weaker than ever before.

It was fortunate that the penguin still waddled energetically in front of him for a large part of the trip, for it kept bringing a smile back to his face –perhaps by chance, perhaps on purpose– with its cheerfulness. But with each step they took and each door they crossed, it too began quietening progressively and considerably, almost solemnly, as they made their way further into the castle. Strangely enough, pushing heavy-looking gates open did not pose much difficulty to the small bird –the butterfly always cheering it on from the sidelines, perched on Rin’s shoulder once again– but the sliding doors seemed to be on a higher level of difficulty for it, as it struggled with only its head and wings, nothing akin to hands or fingers to grab them with. Rin smiled gently when it began yelling angrily at one particular door which, in spite of its continued efforts, refused to budge, and he moved forward to help it, opening it rather easily, and grinning his effortless success to the smaller creature. As thanks for his meddling, the penguin pecked Rin’s leg with force, visibly offended.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Rin cried, stepping back a little, and pouting at the bird as he rubbed his leg. “Sheesh! I’m sorry, okay?”

Needless to say, Rin did not attempt to offer his help again.

 

They continued ahead in silence, moving through perfectly orderly corridors and Zen-styled gardens, and while it was all certainly impressive, in Rin’s adventure-loving heart everything was just boring and empty and _sad_. The general lack of life was disturbing him greatly, and when the penguin squawked again cheerfully, distracting him from it all, Rin was startled at finding himself so tense, his mouth drawn into a thin line and his eyes stinging lightly. It was strange, seeing as Rin had no reason to feel upset, or sad, even, and yet when he swallowed he could feel a certain tightness in his throat that he was not unfamiliar with. There must have been something in the water, definitely, or perhaps his lack of sleep was finally starting to kick in, because Rin himself was surprised by the current burn that seemed to be gathering at the corner of his eyes, and he quickly rubbed the back of his hand against them. He tried to push it away, but the more they walked, the more that the silence and the air of solitude around him seemed to affect him. Something faint but awfully vivid pulled at his heartstrings as they proceeded towards the innermost structures of the castle, and it took him a moment to distinguish, among the uneasiness it was causing him, the feeling of utter disappointment. This was nothing like he had imagined the wonders of a castle in the ocean to be like, at all, and his chest constricted painfully at the thought that perhaps the things he had dreamed of seeing would remain just that, nothing but illusions crafted by a childish and clueless heart.

When Rin finally lifted his eyes from the floor, he saw that the penguin seemed to have been consistently trying to get his attention, and he looked up just in time to watch it practically diving further into the building. It seemed to be pointing ahead energetically, and Rin followed curiously through the newly open door, stepping onto yet another wooden corridor. It, however, immediately stood apart from the rest by giving way on its left to a massive garden, the likes of which Rin had never seen before –the list just kept growing– in his life, spreading out into the open air-water, farther than the eye could see. Rin and his companions had passed many fairly green patches along their way, but this time he was immediately struck by the immaculate, pure white powder snow that covered the brown earth below it, collecting in small, thicker mounds on the ground, on bare tree branches, and in the odd shape of what looked like a poor attempt at a snowman. His eyes widened and a smile broke into his face, unable to help chuckling at the terrible sculpture, and it was extremely hard for him to resist the urge to reach out and touch the snow with his fingertips, if only just to make sure it was real. The penguin was still calling for him loudly, though, so Rin decided to put it aside for now. The last thing he wanted was to fall out of grace by laying his hands on something he was not meant to touch.

As he walked forward along the corridor, towards where the penguin was anxiously waiting for him, Rin noticed that snow was not the only out-of-place element in the underwater garden. A little further ahead, past the snowy fields, Rin could see another set of trees, all covered in clusters of yellow and red and orange, their leaves swaying softly and falling gently to the ground beneath them, equally covered in shades of autumn gold. The butterfly urgently fluttered its wings against his cheek, and Rin turned his gaze even further ahead, where the fallen leaves turned into grass of the brightest green, colorful hydrangeas and morning glories and iris blossoms adorning their particular corner of the garden in a perfectly organized chaos of color. By that point, Rin was practically running along the wooden floor, light on his feet as he watched the seasons changing in front of his very eyes in just a few steps, his pace dropping abruptly as he approached what looked like the final door of his tour, if the penguin’s lack of movement in front of it was anything to go by. Rin’s attention, however, wasn’t focused on it, as his eyes had locked into a particular piece of what was evidently the spring section of the rare and beautiful garden. Among the countless, colorful flowers that livened up the place –sprayed all over the ground, sitting on the bushes, and perched on the trees– stood a lonely, bare tree, with not a single bud or blossom or leaf on its branches to vouch for its beauty. It was simply there, ominous and serene, overlooking the garden and looming over Rin as if its thin but sturdy-looking branches could extend and reach into the deepest crevices of his soul. Rin stood transfixed, watching it curiously as if hoping to unravel its nature and its meaning with just the pressure of his gaze upon it, and he was broken from his trance only when the smell of salty wind and fresh fish seeped into his nostrils, making him turn his head towards the forgotten door, which lay open before him.

The penguin remained oddly silent, standing just outside the door with the butterfly sitting on its head; it too was perfectly still, apparently having left its spot on Rin’s shoulder while he was busy having a stare down with a tree. Rin snorted lightly as he registered the utter ridiculousness of that last thought in his head, and he headed towards the animals with a smile on his face, leaning towards the door in an attempt to peek inside the room he had been led to. He did not get a chance to even attempt at guessing what was inside, though. Suddenly, he found himself stumbling forward, barely avoiding tripping over his own feet when the penguin simply pushed him inside with its completely irrational strength, and before he could open his mouth to complain about the rough treatment –Rin was pretty certain he had done nothing which could justify such a shove– the door was slid shut neatly and in a rush behind him. Rin was quick to steady himself, managing to stand upright without much effort, and fully intent on turning around and giving the rude, little penguin a piece of his mind. None of which happened, because his eyes finally settled on the room just as he was opening his mouth to speak, and Rin instantly forgot everything about the penguin, or the shove, or the bragging remark about his quick reflexes that he had been ready to make. Rin’s mouth hang open, and he felt his breath coming short and his knees threatening to give out beneath him.

He could not have said he had been expecting what was waiting for him there.

The room itself was leaning on the smaller side; it looked like it had miraculously scraped being four tatami mats in size. It was barely furnished, as well; the only items in it consisting of nothing but a large, beautiful scroll –which, unsurprisingly, had the kanji for “water” gracefully written on it– hanging on the wall, and a small vase holding a dry, bare branch, placed a little to the right below it. But neither were the decorations nor the otherwise bare walls that which had left Rin speechless.

 

Sitting in the middle of the room, in a perfectly still and yet infinitely graceful seiza stance, was a black-haired man.

 

Rin had been pulled into the ocean, ferried through the waves, and led into a seemingly empty castle, to come face to face with a _man_ , a male human being, just like him, his eyes hidden behind thick eyelashes, and his form covered in cascading, elegant robes of the most vibrant and regal blues. Placed in front of him, as if to add to the already confusing setting, was a small dish with a single serving of yokan, and in all the time that Rin stood frozen in front of him –or upon Rin’s less than refined entrance, even– not a single hair on his head had stirred.

Rin, on the contrary, could not hold back his surprise. With his jaw hanging in a wide, round “oh” of astonishment, the initial shock that had rendered him motionless was starting to dissolve into wonder, and Rin’s lips curved into a wide smile. He could not believe what he was seeing; an actual _human_ , under the ocean? That was amazing! While Rin himself was proof that it was possible, it did not seem as if the man had been brought to the castle like Rin himself had. Something about him made it seem like he belonged there, more to the water than to the land above, and Rin kept going through the possibilities in his head, his smile widening as he tried to guess who this person was or what his purpose in the ocean might be. The heavy-looking layered kimono that he was wearing was large, spreading over the tatami around him, and Rin could not see his legs—could he be a merman, perhaps? Then again, if he were, Rin was certain he would have been able to see his tail, at least. Unless, of course, _real_ mermen were actually different from how humans usually pictured them, in which case, Rin would never be able to tell with just one glance. He was dying to move closer and make sure, but the man was quiet and breathing softly, as if he were asleep, and Rin feared to disturb him. He decided to take a small step forward; perhaps if he could just touch him for a second, then maybe—

The man suddenly opened his eyes to look up at him, and Rin’s movements and thoughts both came to a jarring stop. The blank expression which adorned the stranger’s face betrayed neither amusement nor annoyance at Rin’s actions, and Rin involuntarily held his breath as that pair of sharp, electric blue eyes gazed towards him. A spark of excitement coursed through him, and Rin stood motionless, his entire body urging him to say something as he stared at the man watching him. There was a strange sort of tension in the air, but Rin found that it was not of the unpleasant sort. It was the kind that made his eyes go wide, his heart beat faster, and his skin itch with curiosity and excitement, much like the one he had felt throughout his journey through the ocean. Again Rin felt as if his very soul was being assessed in a split second, with just one glance, and he suddenly felt underdressed and rudely disheveled, out of place and anxious and just— what in the world was he supposed to _do?_

Rin found himself fidgeting in place, the quick smile he forced onto his lips trembling lightly; he was completely unsure of what he should do or say or how he should act. Should he speak first, or wait until he was spoken to? Should he continue to stand, or should he sit, instead? Should he indulge in the treat offered at his feet, or should he cordially refuse it? Was it meant for him at all, or had he interrupted this person’s tea time? Was he in league with the animals? Could he understand Rin’s language? Rin’s head was plagued with questions upon questions and absolutely no answers, and while it would have been impossible for him to guess he would be faced with a living and breathing _human_ under the sea, Rin began to regret that he had not at least laid out a few possible outcomes in his head before heading towards the door. Just by sitting there in front of him, the man seemed to have pulled the very ground from underneath Rin’s feet, and Rin was horrified to realize he had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to proceed. His shaken gaze remained stuck on the silent and calm figure before him as he nervously racked his brain for options, thoughts going in circles for what seemed like an eternity, and yet he kept failing at coming up with a proper action plan.

It was definitely his imagination, but during that one, short moment, Rin felt as if he had been standing in place under scrutiny for hours.

He was in the middle of hurriedly arranging his clothes and combing his bangs into place as inconspicuously as he could when the strange man moved at last, gesturing with his right hand for Rin to take a seat in front of him. His fingers were long and delicate, and his movements soft and refined, like flowing water, like a stream dancing through eroded boulders in a downwards slope, and the faint rustle of his exceedingly long sleeves pulled Rin into the daydream of a familiar scenery, evoking the sound of ocean waves rolling onto the sand. Rin was so distracted by the motion that, when his time to comply with the man’s request came, his knees nearly gave out and he practically slumped to the floor, as clumsily as it could only have happened in his worst nightmares.

It was unfortunate that they were currently not on land, because in that case maybe the ground might have been gracious enough to swallow him whole.

Red in the face, Rin quickly hastened to fix his position, mimicking the man’s sitting posture, and wishing he could pinch himself for being so completely uncouth. A short, nervous laugh escaped him, and he smiled sheepishly, scratching his neck before smoothing out the fabric of his pajamas for the umpteenth time.

“Um…,” he tried, and though he did his best to sound as cheerful as possible, his voice still came out a little smaller and pitchier than usual, “… good evening?”

Of all the things he could have said, he just _had_ to have started with that. How wonderful. They were in a castle _at the bottom of the ocean_ ; he had no idea whether the time of day was regarded in the same fashion as it was above the surface, or if it _mattered_ , even, in a place so secluded and out of the sunlight’s reach such as that. Why not talk about the weather, too, while he was at it? _‘The water looks so blue! It’s pretty wet today, huh?’_ That would definitely earn him some points with this underwater resident, for sure. Rin groaned inwardly, smiling even wider still, and he would have probably slapped some sense into himself if his cheeks had not already been so _red_.

“I-I just wanted to say, uh, this place is really amazing! You live here, right? I really enjoyed the ride! T-Thanks for… having me?”

None of Rin’s words produced a reply, and doubt started to bubble up inside him once more, making him hope that he had not made the wrong assumptions along the way. He was trying his best to be polite, and the lack of a response made him unsure of whether the man could understand him at all, or if his words were being well-received, even. Holding his smile in place became more and more difficult with each passing second of nothing but silence, his face growing redder and redder, and Rin kept trying to convince himself that no, he had not just made a terrible mistake with that big mouth of his. The man, however, remained unaffected by Rin’s evident abashment, leaning forward to push the small dish with the sweet treat on it delicately towards him instead. Shifting in place a little, and still feelings the shameful burn on his cheeks, Rin watched every inch of the motion, until the man went back to his previous stance, all without a single word.

Rin swallowed hard. He put all of his effort into forcing his current grin into a less panicked, more neutral expression, and carefully tidied his hair again, his eyes fixed on the dish. The man had made no other movements whatsoever, and seemed to be once again stuck permanently in his sitting position, simply watching Rin in silence. Taking a moment to breathe, Rin alternated between staring at the man and at the dessert, which he no longer had to guess was meant for him, after all, and tested the effect of a small smile. Again, the man appeared unfazed by it, the only change in his demeanor being a few slow blinks.

It was clear that the animals had brought Rin all the way to that very room to meet this person, but he was still at a loss as for why.

Clearing his throat as quietly as possible, Rin reached towards the dish and took the toothpick provided for him carefully in between his fingers with a deep breath. He looked up towards the man in blue, and silently asked for his permission to proceed with a slight raise of his eyebrows and a small bow of his head. His wordless question was answered with an equally wordless nod, and Rin began slicing the yokan carefully, poking the first piece and putting it into his mouth with a sort of precision he would have never thought necessary for eating confections. But he felt nervous and perhaps slightly intimidated –no… that was definitely not the right word– and he did not want to ruin the moment by making a complete fool out of himself in front of this person, who looked so tranquil and peaceful that it made Rin wonder if perhaps he was only imagining the tension in the air between them.

He was pleasantly distracted by the firm but yielding texture of the yokan, which seemed to melt in his mouth, the sweet taste of red-bean paste contrasting perfectly with the toasty, crunchy sensation of the small bits of chopped chestnuts scattered inside it. Rin savored it placidly, his shoulders relaxing and a smile forming on his lips as he hummed in appreciation. The black-haired man said nothing still, but he too seemed to relax slightly, if Rin squinted hard enough to note the difference. He did not, of course, because he was obviously, definitely, not staring.

…well.

Rin was trying really hard _not_ to stare, but the man’s entire demeanor and his lavishly soft-looking clothing, coupled with his complete lack of vocal responses and his intense gaze, was terribly mesmerizing. Rin caught himself looking straight into his eyes, and the way in which the blue in them stirred softly, like the surface of a pond disturbed by a drop of dew, caused him to swallow the small bite of yokan he was eating a bit more loudly than he had intended to.

In a brief instant when the entire world seemed to stop and listen, the man parted his lips to speak, and Rin was glad he had made a short pause before taking a second bite into his mouth, for he would have undoubtedly choked on it the moment the sound reached his ears.

“I would like to express my gratitude to you,” the man began, his low, levelled voice carrying itself through the space between them effortlessly and yet without upsetting the stillness of the room in the slightest. The toothpick almost slipped from Rin’s fingers as a result, his mouth wide in shock, “for aiding one of my most loyal subjects in their time of need.”

It took a moment for Rin to regain his composure, and he quickly made sure to clutch the toothpick as firmly as he could. Up until that moment, Rin’s enjoyment of his strange journey had been dampened only by the fact that he could not communicate with his animal companions, unable to inquire about the underwater world and the other creatures that lived in it, magical or not. Hearing the man utter words, actual _words_ , and in a language that Rin could understand, as well, was not only shocking but also uplifting, and Rin’s heart soared with excitement because he could finally get answers to all the questions that had been piling up in the back of his mind ever since he had been lured out of his room in the middle of the night. There was so much he wanted to learn, so much he wanted to know—and yet Rin made the effort to remain quiet. Whether his thirst for knowledge would be well-received or not was irrelevant to his silence. There was something that he could not quite place about the situation, but that was almost tangible in the space between him and the man sitting in front of him, that told Rin that it was not the right time for such a conversation to take place.

The small speech had fallen from the man’s lips in a practiced formality, but there was an inherent gentleness to his tone that showed just how important Rin’s intervention on the beach had really been to him. Rin swallowed again, his lips twitching up slightly with the barely repressed urge to smile proudly as the man watched him for another moment, and had he not been so perfectly still, Rin would have sworn his reactions were being measured.

When neither said anything for a while, the man’s eyes slid closed, a muttered “thank you” finding its way past his lips with a soft sigh. Rin’s breath caught in his throat, and he lowered his head once more, focusing his eyes on the barely eaten yokan in front of him, and daring only to steal small and few timid glances towards the strange man. He, like Rin, had not straightened his posture again, his half-lidded eyes concentrated solely on the edible block as well. Rin certainly hoped that the tired gleam in his gaze was not disappointment, and he suddenly feared that, perhaps, the involuntary pause he had taken from indulging in the treat that had been so graciously offered to him might have offended him. Feeling almost a physical pull to prove him wrong, Rin gathered all his courage to resume his earlier motions, reaching out to cut another slice of yokan and eating it, this time being unable to hold back the bright, toothy grin that appeared on his lips when the man visibly followed his every move, his head rising and falling along with Rin’s arm, his oddly bored gaze seemingly flickering with curiosity.

Rin ate in silence, and not a single word was uttered, not even after the treat was finished and the toothpick was once again placed back on the dish. Again the man leaned forward to slide it across the floor, returning it to its previous position in the dead center between the two of them. It was Rin’s turn to watch then, amazed at how the fluid and soft motions painted a picture of an almost austere royalty; the beautiful, luxurious garments contrasting directly with the muted movements of their bearer. In order to be able to help his family get through the rough patch they had slumped into, Rin had learned to observe people and behave accordingly, and he had been quite certain that, no matter what the situation, he would have a plan to resort to. But the man, the… mysterious stranger sitting in front of him, just like any other part of the castle and the underwater journey, was like nothing Rin had ever seen before, so Rin instinctively held back, afraid to act with too much familiarity in front of him and come off as rude. It was clear as day that there was a formal air to Rin’s visit, and it was also just as likely that the gifts Rin had received during the days prior had come from the man, as well. Rin wondered if he had done the right thing following the animals to this place, or if he had perhaps discovered something he should not have laid his eyes upon, accidentally inviting himself into a rushed welcoming party. His eyes darted around the room, and he bit his lip nervously before forcing a smile onto his face, doubts playing in his head again. What if the man was receiving him simply out of courtesy? What if Rin was not actually welcome here? The penguin had led him on a straight path towards the very room in which he was sitting in. It seemed unlikely that there had been an ulterior motive for it, but perhaps there was something in the castle not fit for human eyes and—

The man stood slowly, cutting Rin’s train of thought abruptly. Rin followed the other’s figure with his eyes as he straightened, towering over him, his sleeves and his robes rippling majestically as he moved. His eyes seemed to come to life as he stared at Rin, his entire aura undergoing a complete change, dignified authority flowing from his every pore. He still looked and sounded and felt absolutely harmless, but as he stood there, staring down at him, Rin felt some sort of ominous quality from him, just like the bare tree in the garden; scrutinizing, watchful, agelessly wise. Rin could not prove a single one of his suspicions about the underwater world or his inhabitants, but of one thing he was absolutely certain.

 

He had definitely been wrong.

 

There was no way that the one standing before him could be human.

 

The man –if he could still call him that– again motioned silently for Rin to get up. With a rattling sound, the sliding door was opened clumsily behind him, in spite of the penguin’s best efforts to be as swift with it as possible. Immediately, the man walked out of the room, and Rin scrambled to follow after him, surprised by his sudden spring of movement. The long, water-like robes trailed behind him, rustling against the wood as the man took long strides, leaving the small room and the strange garden behind in a flash, and Rin settled into a quick pace, making sure to stick close to him as they moved through the castle.

Their path diverged from the one that the animals and Rin had traversed upon their arrival. Instead of being led back towards the entrance, Rin followed the man as they retraced their steps through only a few of the many doors he had originally walked through, their route changing with some sharp left and right turns, towards a different section of the innermost palace. The penguin had immediately rushed ahead of the group with incredible speed, making sure that every single door was wide open before the man had even gotten close to it. The small, stout bird was practically bouncing through the corridors, looking equal parts nervous and excited, and if not for the fact that Rin was consciously keeping himself behind the one who was clearly the lord of the castle, he might have rushed to help the poor thing with its duty. At that moment, as if a flash of inspiration had hit him, Rin finally understood the reason behind the penguin’s reaction when he had offered it his help before. It was not chance nor a simple mistake that had led Rin to the castle and its inhabitants: he was their honored guest, and he should play his part to the end, even if he wanted nothing more than to ask lots of questions and explore the castle and play in the snow and just scream excitedly because _he was in a castle at the bottom of the ocean_. His small body was practically shaking with restrained energy, unable to contain all of the emotions inside of him as he tried his hardest not to behave like a spoiled child. The man’s steps suddenly became faster, and Rin hurried to stay close to him, his bare feet slapping against the wood, almost brushing against the long, sea-colored fabric. In spite of how elegant and solid it looked at a first glance, the soothing colors it was dyed in and the way its folds rained down towards the ground made it seem almost soft to the touch, as if it would slip through his fingers as soon as he tried to reach out towards it. Curiosity getting the better of him, he moved an inch closer with each step, being careful to avoid accidentally tripping its owner –Rin swallowed hard as the thought popped into his mind– and before he knew it he had matched the man’s pace, unable to miss how the fabric felt almost airy as it brushed lightly against his toes, like sea foam rolling in with the tide. It made him smile, reminding him of long walks along the beach, seashells, and discarded pocket watches in the sand, but also made him even more curious about his host, his imagination running wild at the possibilities.

Rin had immediately scratched out the merman option from his list; the man had legs _and_ could talk, after all. Since they were in the ocean, and considering how tall he was, he could not be a kappa, either. Rin’s brow scrunched as he went over the stories his father had told him in the past, sifting through the obviously made-up tales towards the more serious ones, and among all of those, a vague memory of a story he had been told when he was very young slipped to the center of his attention. There was a faint recollection in the back of his mind, a fragmented tale which he could not quite remember, of a spirit or a sea serpent or perhaps an old monk, maybe, who watched over sailors from the shrine sitting atop the hill were most of Iwatobi was built —a piece of local folklore that he had otherwise barely registered in his everyday life— as they went out to sea. There was not much more he remembered about it, only that his father had spoken with respect about this figure, as he always did whenever he talked about the ocean, regardless of it having been an old fable, or a drunk sailor’s anecdote, or a children’s tale. This man certainly did not look like any of the things in the story, but for some odd reason, the very thought of it made Rin’s heart leap anxiously in his chest.

He was so lost in his own dreamland that Rin almost run straight into the man’s back when the group suddenly came to a stop –he really, _really_ needed to stop getting so caught up in his own thoughts like that– right in front of a rather large set of astonishingly decorated doors standing in their way. The man did not resort to the penguin’s help, but instead slid the intricately painted panels open ever so slowly with his own two hands, his expression eternally composed. Rin could barely contain himself, curiosity killing him and his stomach turning unpleasantly with both anxiousness and excitement at the prospect of what could be hidden behind them. Once the door was deemed sufficiently open, the sound of the surf calmed Rin’s racing heart a notch once more, as the man’s clothes rustled when he moved to the side, allowing Rin into the mysterious new room.

“Take anything you desire,” he announced quietly, causing Rin to blink at him, his voice still laced with the same formal tone in which he had been addressing him so far. “Say the word, and it shall be yours.”

Now Rin’s entire attention was focused on the room; what in the world could be inside? …Fish, maybe? It was definitely possible, and considering how bad his father’s luck had been on that front during the past few months, it would be more than decent a parting gift to go back home with. But with all the strange occurrences he had been witness to, Rin was done making guesses for the night, so he eagerly skipped into the room without a second thought, eyes roaming all over it, widening more and more with each passing sweep as he took in what was laid out before him.

It took all of his concentration to keep himself from screaming in utter bliss.

Rows and rows of scrolls, jewels, fine china and other countless, unidentifiable treasures were stacked one over the other in what looked like an endless display of riches, and this time Rin really did feel the need to pinch himself, because such a collection could only be the product of his wildest dreams. To one side he could make out tools of gold and silver, ancient manuscripts and watercolor paintings and the finest porcelain jars, crystal orbs and feather fans and colorful magic potions; to the other he saw maps of uncharted lands and oceans, beautiful silks and intricate Arabian carpets, striped hides and sharp fangs and bones, swords and bows and staves crowned with sparkling jewels. It was each and every one of his childhood fantasies put together in one place, and everywhere he looked there was something new and fascinating to look at, his eyes sparkling with amazement and glee, mouth upturned in a toothy grin. Rin moved around the room like lightning, going from one corner to the other and not knowing what to examine next, everything shining under his eyes as something grand and exciting, making his heart thump loudly with an immense joy.

“This is amazing!” he cried, taking a small map in his hands and turning it in every direction, trying to make out the foreign scribbles on it. He could already see it all in his mind’s eye, the wondrous adventures that all those items had most likely been part of, and Rin was certain that he could surely find the ones in his father’s old stories, if he took his time to look for them. “Wait till dad sees all this!”

And with those words, Rin’s heart sank abruptly, heavy as lead, as he stared at the piles of treasures laid out before him. It was not simply a gallery for him to admire; the man had offered it to him, anything he wished for, and he only had but to ask for it. It was infinitely better than fish. And that hurt. It made Rin’s heart constrict with shame, because the whole room, that grand collection of riches was the answer to his prayers. To be allowed to possess all those wonders could keep his family from starving for life and for generations to come, it was the solution to every single one of his worries, and yet Rin could not even fathom the idea of accepting such a generous offer. It hurt, because it would be wrong of him to take it, any of it. His family needed it, he needed it, craved each and every single item in front of him, but he did not _want_ any of it. It would be wrong of him to be truthful to his needs and desires and demand the entire treasury be made his, and yet that was precisely what the quiet man was asking of him: sincerity. He had told Rin to name whatever it was he desired, but how could he ever dare speak of his true feelings, when they were so absolutely, embarrassingly selfish?

Rin did not want a reward. He had not bought the butterfly off from those cruel children for the sake of being showered in gold. He had saved the butterfly out of kindness, and out of kindness was this man attempting to repay him, and in his life Rin had never known shame so irrational as the one he was currently feeling. It would be so much simpler to just accept, but Rin’s pride refused to allow it; while riches were certainly what his family needed the most at the moment, such an unfair trade was not how Rin had envisioned reaching his far-off goal. Thus, he continued to stare at the contents of the room in frustration, powerless and torn, his hands balled into fists and tears prickling his eyes with disgust.

He was trying, he really was, but he could not make himself stop wanting all of it.

When had he become so weak?

A small thud against his leg made Rin turn, and his slightly clouded gaze landed on the penguin, which had just bumped its entire body against him. It looked up at him with its small, round, piercing eyes, balancing a golden cup on its head and some bead necklaces on its wings. Rin’s mouth twitched nervously, fighting back the tears as he faked a smile, and he set the map down carefully, leaning down slightly to pet the penguin’s back as gently as he could in appreciation, trying his best not to give away the fact that he was shaking. In a careless move he looked up, finding the man's intense blue stare trained on him, and he hurried to straighten up with a gulp, immediately turning away to rub his wet eyelashes against the sleeves of his pajama shirt, and going back to pretending nothing had happened.

It was alright, he could do it. He could go back to his old life and forget all about this weird… dream of sorts that he was having. He could go back to his family and his school and his jobs and be content with what he had. They would be alright. They would manage. He did not need outworldly riches or deep-sea friends or breathing underwater. He could manage. He had been managing his entire life, so why should it be any different after all he had seen? Sure, the underwater castle was the embodiment of everything he had ever yearned for, magic and strange journeys and silly sidekicks included. But it was not what he was meant for. He was just a kid, a kid who dreamed too big for his own good and would never be able to be a part of any of it and—

“Perhaps your father will enjoy examining these, also,” a soft voice wafted through the air beside him, and Rin jumped with a start at the close proximity of it, turning to find not only the strange man still staring at him, but also the butterfly heading towards him. It fluttered worriedly over his shoulder, struggling to keep afloat with the added weight of a pair of heavily ornamented earrings hanging from its tiny appendages. Rin instinctively reached out to help it, only to end up with the earrings being dropped unceremoniously on his palm, and the butterfly settling itself on his shoulder again to brush its wings gently against his cheek. Rin’s expression contorted into guilt at this display, fresh tears falling freely down his face as he raised one hand to caress the small bug’s wings softly, clutching the earrings in the other, and pushing a shaky, pained smile onto his lips. The man’s stare remained on him, and Rin watched him as he knelt beside him, his gaze firm and serious, but not in the least bit frightening. “Dry your tears,” he ordered, and Rin’s eyes immediately widened at the sudden change not only in his tone, but in his expression as well. He was no longer simply a stranger, nor a man, nor a mystical, underwater feudal lord. He spoke with the conviction and authority of a guardian, admonishing but encouraging, distant but warm. “You shall not struggle for your loved ones again.” In the brief second that their eyes connected again, something struck a chord inside him, and all of a sudden, Rin understood what that gaze meant.

Even if he could only picture bits and pieces of the puzzle at the moment, there was no doubt in his mind any longer. That old tale he was unable to remember clearly was undoubtedly very, very real, and the creature spoken of in it was most likely there, kneeling right in front of him, a stern but somewhat gentle look on his face. With a soft sniffle, Rin rubbed his sleeve furiously against his eyes, and forced his tears to come to a stop.

 

* * *

 

Rin stood on the gravel path again, white as a sheet save for the faint red that still tinted his eyes and cheeks. The whale kept bumping and rubbing its nose against his back both soothingly and encouragingly, as if it knew everything that had transpired inside, the corridors of the castle much too narrow for it to wonder around together with the rest of the group. Right in front of him stood the penguin and the butterfly, both ceremoniously –but cheerfully, in the penguin’s particular case– flanking the mysterious man as he bid Rin his goodbye, already back to his previous formal and ceremonious demeanor. His expression was both stoic and serene at the same time, and a black box was being held firmly in his hands. Rin stared at each of the animals in turn, his lips once again threatening to break into a smile when the penguin waddled playfully for him, before shifting his gaze back towards the man, who began speaking as soon as Rin’s attention returned to him.

Per his instructions, Rin was to return to land and go straight back to his house, and in the morning, before the first ray of sunlight shone over the ocean’s surface, he was to head to the beach, where the treasure he himself had deemed the boy worthy of would be waiting for him. Rin was to speak to no-one of it and take it back home with him, where it would best serve its purpose. It all sounded too good to be true, but Rin did not have the heart to contradict the man anymore at that point. He liked getting his way more often – _way_ more often– than the average person did, but even Rin was not stubborn enough to go against the one who might very well be related to, or could quite possibly _be_ the guardian deity of all of Iwatobi. Therefore, Rin accepted his defeat, promising to collect the reward as instructed, and even let slip a joke about how he could trick his family into believing he had actually come across a washed up treasure on the sand. The butterfly did another one of its crazy backflips at this, seemingly supporting his idea, and hurried to float towards the whale’s back, followed closely behind by the penguin.

Before Rin could turn towards the larger animal as well to be ferried back home, the man’s bottomless blue eyes, that had been fixed on him the entire time, turned to rest on the box, which still remained untouched on his slender hands. In a feat of wordless communication, Rin understood he was supposed to accept that one parting gift, as well, and extended his arms towards him, watching attentively as the box was placed on his expectant palms, a fine, red string tying it shut. He did not even have to open his mouth to ask, for the other’s voice was already floating through the water towards him, quiet, almost secretively.

“Do not open it,” he said gently, drawing Rin’s gaze towards him. “Do not give it away. It is my gift to you. Keep it safe.” The words were spoken in one single breath, and yet the break between the warnings and the request that came after them was made evident as the man’s voice suddenly dropped to the slightest, softest whisper in the silence. Rin could do nothing else but nod quietly, much too overwhelmed with emotion and also quite flustered by all the unnecessary gestures he was being held on the receiving end of, all of which he still did not feel he deserved. At long last, and after making certain that the man had no more to say, Rin turned to make his way up onto the whale’s back as well, without uttering a single word of protest. He climbed by way of its tail; the whale kindly lifted him up to make the climb easier on his currently occupied hands. Stealing one last glance at the man as the enormous creature began its way back to the surface along the water, red and blue locked again briefly as a final set of words was uttered into the waves, and Rin’s fingers curled impossibly tighter around the black box.

“The water will always welcome you,” the man said quietly, and soon the castle and all that surrounded it was veiled once again by the cold, pitch-black waters.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my support group and lovely betas/editors/cheerleaders [Maze](http://shonenmaidlevi.tumblr.com), [Lucy](http://empressrevealed.tumblr.com), and [Echo](http://echocave.tumblr.com) for bearing with my whining and giving me their insight and comments. Editing this chapter was a nightmare, but thanks to these lovely ladies it gained in length and quality. I really owe you guys.
> 
> Rin's adventure is only just beginning. Please watch warmly over him as it unfolds!


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